Puppet Mistress
by Sticka-chan
Summary: My first own fanfic/story :  A child author who's brilliant at writing is a recluse. Her characters live in another world and are her puppets for her stories, but they do have minds of their own. When the two worlds intercross, will the suffering stand ?


Darkness. In the dead of the night, all was still, and not a sound could be heard…

Then there was the creak of the bed, as the blanket was flung a few feet off. The faint tapping of footsteps against the cold, hard floor, and the drawing of the window blinds, allowing the silvery moonlight to invade the room, casting an eerie glow on the black metallic screen that stood erect, supported by a device of ivory white.

Tiny particles of dust flew slowly about as the floated around in the air, visible in the light of the moon, which seemingly caused her skin to seem much paler than it usual tone. Tousled, shaggy black hair flapped against the back of her magnolia shirt as she flitted across the room.

The silence of the night was once again disturbed by the scratching of the chair against the floor as it was drawn back, creating space for her to sit on it. She flopped down on it, and reaching out her hand, she leaned forward to flick a switch by the side of the screen. It lit up and cast a white glow on her face, and her russet optics took in everything she saw on display.

Grabbing the keyboard, she shoved it closer to her body and began typing, and soon the only sound in the midst of all the silence was the clacking sound of her fingers frantically dancing across the keyboard to the steady, non-existant beat of the rhythm that drove them to type.

_Hello. Why aren't you asleep ?_

She waited patiently for a few moments, and her eyes twitched in the slightest movement when the icon of a reply in process popped up.

_I could ask you the same question._

A ghost of a smile crossed her cracked lips, already tired from all the show of unreal happiness during the time when the sun had been shining its frighteningly burning rays down on herself and her friends. Her fingers set to work.

_I feel like I could just jump off a cliff right now _

Sarcasm. She was known for her common use of it, but it didn't always make people laugh. She would if she could, but it didn't really seem like she had that blessed ability in her.

_O_O Why ?_

The reply came. "Emoticons," she thought. They were addictive.

_Well, you would've known if you had come. Yuusuke did :D_

There were a few moments where the sound of silence rang in her ears before the speakers crackled, and a 'pop' sounded.

_Well that's Yuusuke :D Hey, tell me about it. That secret the both of you were talking about. Tell me ! _

She drew her breath in slightly as she paused for a second, and her shoulders sagged a little.

Apprehensiveness greeted her. She was hesitant, but still that fake smile stretched her lips to widen them just a little. Why was that smile still there ? There was no one to show it to. Why smile now ? There was no need for it.

She didn't want things turning out the way they had done before.

But she went ahead with it, anyway. Minutes drew by slowly, and the second hand of the clock seemed to tick away at the pace of a sloth…

This time the response had been kinder. The smile stretched just a little wider, as if it were tearing the wound in her heart deeper than it had already been dug.

She sighed to herself and slumped in her chair as she stretched her fatigued arms just a little longer to type out a reply instantaneously. She would have to forget about it once again. At least this one was not pretentious. Did not intend to get away with it and save himself. But it had been alright.

Her heart had not been in it. This time round, she started to doubt whether her heart had been in it once more. She thought that it had, but something seemed to be missing. It seemed a little awkward, as to why she did not walk back to her bed with heavy steps and let the tears fall.

Yet her eyes did not wet. Her feet did not move. But her fingers danced away.

Maybe it had all been fake. All of it.

She tried to grasp that feeling back, and just a wisp of it reappeared in her mind. The smile frozen and etched on her face, she allowed herself a few moments to think. There was that churning, wrenching feeling in the pits of her gut.

It grew. It took over her body, the light in her eyes began to fade as they had done so many times before. Just something so simple, without meaning any harm, trying to be nice… It had reopened that wound that so many had tried to patch up.

In fact, she wondered. Their efforts would all just be in vain, for the wound would just continue to reopen and bleed, just as it had already done so many times, and cause her suffering and sorrow. She did not wish to be drowned in all that pain, yet she did not really have a choice.

The souls wandering the land of sleep, and snoring gently in the next room, were also another cause of this great suffering. Zaku had done enough damage the first time. No matter how much Yuusuke and the others, like Nayuri and Yumi, had tried to help her through, she would not budge from the place she was standing, in the midst of all that darkness. As they moved on and slowly let go of her frail hands, she remained, stuck in the same spot, for she could not move forward without that proper closure, or that proper show of love she had never received.

It was hopeless.

And then the small metallic boxes crackled to life once more, and the 'pop' sounded in her ears. The lids of her eyes lifted tiredly, but then she came to view an enthusiastic greeting from a friend. The smile faded a little, and she felt relieved that she did not need to extort so much wasted energy.

_HI!_

"Yuusuke," the name appeared in her mind like a shimmer of glittering dust, falling like a curtain.

_It was fun just now, wasn't it _

There he was, Yuusuke once again. She had barely known him at the beginning of the year, and now she felt that sense of trust already building up inside. She knew he had his own times of pink faces and awkward laughs and dropping hints – but not with her, of course.

He had his problems, she had her own. It was just fair. Maybe it was trust, maybe it was love, and maybe it was just a complete sense of friendship.

She thought of it whole-heartedly as the latter, and loved it for that. If it ever tweaked a little and her feelings changed, she was sure she wasn't going to ruin that love between friends anytime soon. Maybe not for her sake, but for his.

She knew.

Or maybe she was just thinking too much.

At least, that was what she hoped. But then again, what were the chances ? She didn't know. She hadn't a clue. But for this, she wasn't willing to take risks. Friendship was just about one of the best things one could have, and a little sigh of joy escaped her as her hands shook a little as she struggled to type a hasty reply to him, trying to control her laughter at the comically cheerful conversation they were having.

It had been less awkward with Yuusuke than with Ryouji, barely a few minutes ago. It was amazing, the things her friends did for her.

And yet…

It was time, she realized. Ending of the conversation, she got up from her chair slightly, leaned forward once again to flick the switch in the opposite direction.

Her hands fumbled for the pieces of paper with straight horizontals lining them. The pen had been placed neatly by the side of the stack, and as she tightened her grip on the hard blue plastic, the black liquid flowed out seamlessly, and took the form of words and sentences. Paragraphs were strung together, and soon an entire page had been put to good use. She was in a delusion, a realm created right from the depths of her own imagination.

Away, far in another world, something stirred amongst everything else, in the night. The puppets were awakening, doing her bidding. They would put on a show for her, a show for the audience and those who were to read the story of their master, their creater – the author who painted pages in a single colour, and whose brush took the form of words.

She was the girl who had created them, the one with the gift, the one who loved them so much they could feel her love for them despite not knowing of their very existence. One of them looked up, his black hair spiked and wild. "I'll come to that place where you are," he announced to no one but himself, surrounded by the soulless bodies which had not come to life just yet, "Keep writing, master. Keep us alive. One day soon, I will cross realms, and make you shine brighter. Don't give up on us."

Her eyes twinkled happily, for the first time that night, as if she was wearing a crooked smile. She thought maybe she'd heard the voices of her characters. Maybe Yuusuke deserved one, she wondered, and considered the thought. Her characters, her friends, were so many, there were countless of them already. They were those who meant something special to her. Her friends. Her treasures.

But then she decided that the telling of the story had been enough that night, and with a flick, she capped the pen and lay it down on the many written sheets of paper. All that had been enough for a night. She'd go to bed now and dream her dreams, which always ended up being nightmares one way or another. She remembered what she had told Yuusuke just a while ago, and repeated it to herself.

"I'm a troubled kid."

Silence was close to regaining its reign, before being disturbed by the scratching of the chair against the floor as it was pushed front, after she'd gotten up. Her footsteps were heavy, and she plodded towards her bed, sitting down with a sudden thud. Reaching out her hand, she grasped the corner of her blanket and lifted her legs onto the hard, and rather uncomfortable mattress. She knelt on it to stretch for the blinds and shut them close. Lying down on her bed, she pulled the blanket over her body. Her russet optics took in everything around her –

Darkness.


End file.
